Dead Religions

Dear Sean Peterson [Director of Ticket Operations and Sales; Inland Empire 66ers]:

Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, even though this wedding thing will prevent you from traveling to Arizona Fall League in October. Suppose your boss, Joe Hudson [General Manager; Inland Empire 66ers] planned a mandatory team building/brainstorming conference in Phoenix October 3rd through the 7th? You commitment to your employer would force you to go to the Arizona Fall League with your compatriots in the front office and my crew. If any of you get bit by scorpions though, you people are on your own. Time waits for no man in the Valley of the Sun.

Yes, the Arizona Fall League has changed greatly this year, hopefully for the better. The one constant will be the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, and the fine baseball discourse amongst baseball pilgrims who make the Holy Trek to The Promised Land. This year, I will have plenty to wear as my wardrobe expanded greatly during my minor league road trip. Still, I would look really good in a California League All Star Game polo if you guys still have a XXL sitting around the office.

I am rather shocked that GM Joe was the last to figure out my identity. The 2017 California Executive of the Year probably had other more pressing things on his mind, especially since his assistant GM was invisible for most of the season. I must say this — I have been around the country, to parks from the Pioneer and the Northwest Leagues to the Carolina and NY Penn Leagues (except for the Florida State League because who enjoys baseball in a swamp), and GM Joe is atop of the list of esteemed minor league executives I have met. You guys are lucky to work for him; I just wish he would give me my own personal business cards.

Hey, I had a great idea on how to end the season: let me race Bernie in the Mascot Race. This Harlem Globetrotter stuff with the little kids winning all the time needs to stop. I will be the sacrificial lamb and will walk out into the outfield and dance for a bit, then sit down so Bernie can win. You can send the maintenance cart out to get me so I do not get too winded. Having a beer in the cart would be a nice touch. Maybe a shot of Fireball also. I will have earned it.

We can use Bernie’s victory as a promotional video for the 2020 season. Motivated by defeating that kind of a big deal Bads85, Bernie starts emulating a young Rocky Balboa’s training regimen and the eternally buff GM Joe as his trainer. Think of the t-shirts that can be sold! Perhaps enough to get Bernie an updated costume with freshly pressed jersey.

I need to go because I need to drop George Bateman {Ticker Sales Coordinator; Inland Empire 66ers] a quick note.

Your friend in baseball,

Bads85

PS: Btw, The Bads85 Fan Club thing on the group board last night was a nice twist.

Dear George Bateman [Ticket Sales Coordinator; Inland Empire 66ers]:

Are you prepared for the last Thirsty Thursday of the season tonight? It should be epic as I bet GM Joe Hudson might formally offer me a position on this home stand since he has to realize by now that I am kind of a big deal. The G Street hobos have known this for years, but no one listens to them because they smell of cheap alcohol and internal decay.

I noticed that you have your own 66ers’ business card these days. Congratulations as not everyone gets those. I have never received mine, even though I have been the 66ers unofficial ambassador for years. It often means an employee is moving up the front office pecking order. At the very least, it means you have job security until the season ends next week. No matter what happens, you will always have the 2019 California All Star Game polo, something I never received. One would think being the Celebrity Burrito Judge would warrant a polo, but I guess not. I am sure there will be other Cal League All Star games and polos, especially since the league is down to eight teams.

Speaking of polos, I would strongly suggest to the organization that they upgrade the selection of this style of shirt this off season. 90’s golf attire is no longer in style, and the 66ers can do better. You might be thinking, “But Bads85, this is The Dino and no one wears polos except under their Raiders’ jersey at funerals!”, and while stereotype was borne in truth, San Bernardino consists of less than thirty percent of the 66ers’ fan base, despite it being the home city. Let’s ask this question, “Would George Bateman willingly wear the polos currently in the team store?” The answer is a resounding no because George Bateman dresses to look good.

Hey, did you know that Eric Karros bobblehead your organization is giving away this Saturday looks nothing like Eric Karros? It is a splendid replica of the old Stampede jerseys the team wore back then when the club could draw over 270,000 fans a season though. I bet you guys didn’t know that Mickey Hatcher was the manager then, and Charlie Hough was the pitching coach. Those uniforms are sharp, and you suggest that they be brought back next year as throwback jerseys. The 1999 squad wore those uniforms to a league title (see what I did there with the verb “rode” and the horse thing). Flags fly forever, except when the flag pole breaks – ask GM Joe about that one.

So is the final home game of the season this Monday Fan Appreciation Night? Every night is Fan Appreciation Night for me because I am a bundle of positive energy and the hard working staff of the 66ers always bend over backwards to accommodate my needs (MORE FIREBALL), but the downtrodden often like material gestures that they are being appreciated. You were not around the year that Fan Appreciation Night consisted of free lift passes to Snow Summit, which went over so well with the Wheelchair Brigade in the handicap seats.

I need to get going because I need to ponder what jersey to where tonight. I was planning on wearing my classic San Bernardino Spirit jersey, but it is rather hot for that. Decisions. Decisions.

Your friend in baseball,

Bads85

Dear Sean Peterson [Director of Ticket Operations and Sales; Inland Empire 66ers]:

I received your email today about the upcoming Annual Season Ticket Holder BBQ and Batting Practice on September 10th. As of right now, I am a definite maybe since that is a long way off in my life planner. Hey, remember when the 66ers would make the playoffs and the separation and the end of the season BBQ was not that great? That was a long time ago — five years to be exact. We were all so much more innocent then, thinking there would always be someone like Anthony Bemboom carry the team through September.

These days, September is like an empty cargo train pushing onto through the dark night, searching for freight yards not on the way home. The lonely whistle might pierce the night, but the local legends are not getting out of bed as the wind howls through the canyon. Spring is so far away as San Manuel Stadium sits empty. Even the Mark Sappington Bobblehead on the mantle looks dour during September.

Speaking of bobbleheads, I see if I give you my deposit for next year’s season tickets, I will receive a bobblehead to be named later. Considering last year’s was the immortal Jo Addell, how can I pass on this opportunity, even though I can remember when jerseys were given away for early season ticket purchases. I certainly do not a repeat of last spring’s fiasco when my season ticket renewal became intertwined with potential contract negotiations with the Elmore Sports Mafia, so I am going to reserve tickets during this final homestead after about eighteen shots at The Garage. Hopefully, my Thirsty Thursday crew will do the same. 

This September might be different because the Arizona Fall League has been moved up a month, meaning there is no lull between the Cal League playoffs and the greatest spectacle in the desert that baseball has to offer. Perhaps you should ride with my crew out there as we dance where angels fear to tread. Or maybe GM Joe will make you stay home and make you push those advance group sales. Or brainstorm between inning promotions. Here are some suggestions so you can sneak away to go to Arizona with us:

1. Any game in which the loser is humiliated. Everyone is tired of seeing little kids win. Make them lose painfully, and we can all cheer when they cry. Put capes on the little plate breakers, give them the illusion they are super heroes, and then have Bernie yank the cape, spilling them onto the turf as the rabid crows cheers.
2. Games that involve alcohol. Sure, booze, is not allowed on the field, so have these adult contests in The Garage. Losers have to sit next to that crazy lady who is there every game.
3. Finish the Point Break quote. Show a clip from the all time classic film, then have the participant finish the line.

Mr. Reeves on the big screen: I’ve been to every city in Mexico. I came across an unclaimed piece of meat in Baja, turned out to be Rosie. I guessed he picked a knife fight with somebody better. Found one of your passports to Sumatra, I missed you by about a week at Fiji…..

Participant: But, I knew you wouldn’t miss the fifty year storm, Bodhi,

4.   Bring back God’s greatest gift since beer: Knocker Ball. 

5.   Dueling air guitarists on each dugout. Winner is the person with the loudest cheer. 

Well, I need to get some rest so I am fresh for the last Thirsty Thursday of the season. I am torn over what to wear as I always want to look my best.

Your friend in baseball,

Bad85

Dear Wade Howell [Vice President; Down East Wood Ducks]:

It has been too long since we have communicated, my friend. I have been busy solving Major League Baseball’s attendance problems as a freelance project at the request my childhood friend Fast Eddie who used to be an international scout for the Baltimore Orioles, but was released because of his penchant for cocaine and acid. He figures be can get some skin back the game with my astute data analysis. Even though Fast Eddie is  complete degenerate, I still have debts to him from childhood. I guess you can say he helped mold the man I am today.

I see if the Carolina League ended today that the Woodies’ first round playoff opponent would be the Fayetteville Woodpeckers, which would just drip with irony and cause me wardrobe angst. Of course, if your team keeps beating their asses like tonight, that long bus rise to Myrtle Beach could very well materialize. If the ‘Peckers hang on though, well, you might make to to Segra Stadium this year after all. Fun fact: four teams in the Carolina League responded to my missives this season. All four are poised to make the post season. The losers who did not respond will be getting an early start on their 2020 promotional schedule, just like the Inland Empire 66ers. 

Hey, while I was analyzing MLB’s woes, I had an epiphany and pretty much solved your attendance issues while saving the city of Kinston. All you need is a high speed rail project, Wade, and fans from all over the Carolina League can zip to Historic Grainger Stadium. The line can run from Myrtle Beach all the way to Wilmington, eliminating those hot, long bus rides where the hours turn to days. 

Of course, this is going to take time and money to build, but in the meantime, you can leverage the vision of the high speed rail to inspire the Rangers to pay for the new video scoreboard that Grainger Stadium desperately needs, which would undoubtedly lead to a corporate sponsor to ante up a tidy sum of sweet, sweet cash to have the naming rights to your ballpark. Maybe you could even get DEWD a better costume, one where he looks more like a buff duck rather than a roadrunner than fell in a pile of radioactive waste. All you have to do is tell your bosses you heard from a reliable source that high speed rail is coming to the Carolina League, funded by out of state investors who see eastern North Carolina as a fertile area to develop a technological hub because of depressed land values. 

Whisper the rumor to Mayor Dontario Hardy and let him promote it while you rest over the offseason. Once the buzz builds, create some 2020 promotions around it, especially after you ensure there is a great deal of public speculation of what tech companies are coming to Kinston. Every Monday can be Microsoft Monday. Perhaps invite Bill Gates to throw out a first pitch — look how well that turned out for you when you asked me to do that! Tesla Tuesdays! Workiva Wednesdays! Think of the t-shirt sales! You can even sell toy trains with the likeness of DEWD on it. The Woodies’ Express.

Remember, it is not the actual rail itself that will inflate property values; it is the idea of the rail and land speculators will swoop into Lenoir County. The first thing they will do is build some decent hotels in Kinston, and then quality restaurants will follow. In the meantime, I can write other Carolina League front offices to tell them the train is coming, and you are aboard (in a snappy conductor uniform). After this summer, they are going to want everything I have to offer now that they know I am kind of a big deal.

I know this is a great deal to disseminate right now, but we have all fall to flesh this out. If Mayor Don comes to the playoffs, do not hesitate to tell him the big news. 

Your friend in baseball,

Bads85

Dear Ben Hughes [Manager, Marketing & Communications; Fayetteville Woodpeckers]:

Congratulations on your organization finally beating the Down East Wood Ducks. Can you imagine a first round match up between my two favorite Carolina League teams? Flights from California to Raleigh are surprisingly dirt cheap for that week. Imagine if I made the scene! What will I wear?

Before we can focus on that though, you have a much more pressing concern. I saw that last Wednesday was Celtic Heritage Night at Segra Stadium. My sweet summer child, inviting the Irish into your park is like inviting a hoarse of pyromaniacs into a napalm plant at DuPont. I hope the local law enforcement agencies were prepared to wear full riot gear while your organization had the good sense to lock top the expensive booze. We are talking about a people here who unanimously would rather have Parkinson’s than Alzheimer’s because their logic is it is better to spill a few drops of Bushmill’s rather than to forget where they placed the entire bottle. I hope that you survived to remember this parable the next time you feel compelled to let the Irish in the stadium:

An Irishman is struggling to find a parking space. “Lord,” he prayed. “I can’t stand this. If you open a space up for me, I swear I’ll give up the Guinness and go to Mass every Sunday.” Suddenly, the clouds part and the sun shines on an empty parking spot. Without hesitation, the Irishman says: “Never mind, I found one!”

So there are only seven games left at Segra Stadium this inaugural season. How sweet are those stadium replicas that you are giving away this Friday? I bet they will be in high demand. I’d ask you to hold one for me since my visit to your stadium changed the course of your season, but I know many from offices demand that a person be present to receive a giveaway, which makes sense when dealing with the peasants, but it ignores the very few people like me who are kind of a big deal. However, the season really is not about giveaways; it is about the friends we make along the way, especially on Thirsty Thursdays. 

Remember, ti is never too early to be thinking of next year’s promotions. Carne Asada Poutine Night needs to happen. You probably will not one able to have any eating contests in upcoming seasons because that dude choked in the Taco Eating contest in Fresno. Who the hell has a taco eating contest anyway? Tacos are meant to be savored, not shoved down one’s throat like prison food. Here are some other suggestions for promotions next season:

1. Mongolian Metal Night. Nothing more really needs to be said about this awesomeness. 

2. Duck Season in July Night. Fans get to blast Wood Ducks targets with paint guns, which they should relish since they have been looking up the first place Woodies ‘ass all season.

3. Pray for Rain. Bitch About The Rust Night. I really have no idea what to do for this, but I heard the lyric on the radio this weekend, and haven’t really slept since. 

4. Boba Fett Night. Every team has a Star Wars Night. Focus on the character that should have his own trilogy. Let Austin Schwartz be Boba Fett. 

5. Field of Screams Night. Have a likens of Judge Landis lead The Children of the Corn kids on a chase of Shoeless Joe and those other numbnuts that walked out of a field for a game of catch. This clever parody of that horseshit MLB is pulling in Iowa next season will garner national attention and sell many t-shirts. Throw in a Zombie Apocalypse blood drive, and you might just be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize. 

I need to cut this short as I need to continue planning for the big Arizona Fall League trip this October. You should convince Mark Zarther [President; Fayetteville Woodpeckers] to send your  front office out to Arizona that same weekend. We can even let Mark lead us into battle at each stadium, kind of like Napoleon before that Waterloo mess. Make sure you hydrate though — OR DIE!

Your friend in baseball.

Bads85

1. Spray the millions of dead bugs off the outer facade of your stadium. Yes, I know flood waters are wicked (I once left the water on too long in my pool and had a near flood outside my laundry room), but invest in a high pressure cleaner and send that dead river bugs to a better grave. It will be man-hours well spent.
2. I hope all your employees are as courteous as the three parking lot dudes someone in the front office sent out to the river’s edge to see just who the hell I was. Those guys were certainly impressed by my custom made “Fear the Wood! Respect the ‘Pecker!” t-shirt that I purchased in Fayetteville, North Carolina. However, one of those guys was truly old, and he should not be sent out for potential muscle, even if he is Lord of the Parking Lot. When our eyes met, I could tell he possesses an old minor league soul, and he knew right away there would not be trouble, but there are some crazies out there in this world, and Ebenezer is not as spry as he once was. 
3. You have a sign with pictures of sixteen prohibited items near the entrance. I am not sure what the literacy rates are in Davenport, but those pictures are a buzzkill. Perhaps you could just use words as not to leave lasting visual impressions on the retinas of your paying customers.
4. You really are lacking outfield advertising signage. Not only is that lost revenue, but that is opportunities missed to build lasting relationships with local businesses. Wade Howell [Vice President; Down East Wood Ducks and Hickory Crawdads] and I had a lengthy discussion about this over a few beers. That dude has maxed out his signage in a depressed placed like Kinston, NC. Before you say, “But Bads85, we have had floods!”, remember that Wade has had his city and stadium ravaged by two hurricanes in three years. The Hampton Inn in Kinston is still closed, waiting on FEMA money. Of course, if you had an assistant GM, say a guy who works remotely, you could probably sell many more outfield advertisements.
5. Is that Drop and Twist in right field up to code? Nothing eats up revenue quicker than carny lawsuits.
6. Your tent along right field? It resembles something one would see at rock festival where they put kids who have taken too many drugs. Once can almost tase the oranges and cigarettes. You should look to put in a permanent awning with a bar.

Dear Stephen [Director of Marketing & Game Presentation; Peoria Chiefs]:

Hello! I hope you remember me, but I am the guy who asked about the shot glass way back when your promotional schedule was released. You politely told me I could not have one, but I was hoping that you would hold one for me because I am such a swell minor league fan. Alas, apparently you did not because I have never heard from you again, which is cool because everyone knows the town of Peoria, Illinois never really sleeps, so you were certainly very busy. 

I recently completed an 11,000 mile road trip across North America in which I visited many minor league parks, even in Canada. I drank with minor league execs across the land, hung out in luxury suites (gaining entry both by invitation and stealth), threw out first pitches, acted as a celebrity food judge in parks, and spent large amounts of entertainment dollars. Obviously, I did not stop at Dozer Park, mainly because I never heard back from you. I did not really have time for a large Midwest League excursion, so I just visited the clubs in that league that shared correspondence with me over the course of the glorious 2019 season, which has flown by.

I am writing you today to inform you that is never too early to get on the 2020 Bads85 bandwagon. This year’s road trip certainly cemented my status as kind of a big deal, so teams will certainly be clamoring for me to visit their park to bring joy and minor league wisdom to their games. Despite your defending silence over the season, for some reason I took a liking to your Peoria Chiefs. 

Since your season will be over very soon since there is no way in hell the last place Chiefs will make the postseason, I figured you might want to get busy planning my arrival next year, maybe run a Bads85 Bobblehead Night by the top brass. Some Bads85 drink specials would be a nice touch so the commoners can bask in my glow also. I could also throw out the first pitch because I have a great deal of practice now. 

Maybe we can order some food for delivery since Professional Sports Catering still services you stadium, and we do not want to waste valuable time standing in their hellacious lines. Or maybe we can just grill in your office and get some ice cream to pour some Fireball over. My buddy Nick and I invented a new shot — Fireball with a sliver of vanilla been ice cream. When I was in Canada, I came up with the idea of carne asada poutine, with both the Inland Empire 66ers and the Fayetteville Woodpeckers want to introduce next season. You see, Stephen, I am an idea man, just not a box office draw because of my pretty face.

Anyway, I am hearing some dolphins crying, which is usually a sign that powerful ideals are beginning to ascend, so I need to write other people.

Your friend in baseball, 

Bads85

Dear George Bateman [Ticker Sales Coordinator; Inland Empire 66ers]:

I have yet to see you upon my return in person, but I am confident you are still employed by the Inland Empire 66ers because I see your likeness in their promotional videos on social media. I have been informed that Alex Groh [Assistant General Manager] has left the organization, which means the the avenue to your promotion is WIDE OPEN, unless of course GM Joe offers me the job, and I accept out of the love for the organization, not monetary gain. 

I did see GM Joe last night, and while I believe he might be a little hurt because I took off in the middle of the season for an epic minor league road trip that saw me throwing out a first pitch for the Down East Wood Ducks, I feel that he was glad to see me back in San Manuel Stadium, ordering shots of Fireball as the cash register rings. I am not sure he is ready to offer me the position of assistant GM quite yet, even though my extensive traveling has just furthered my knowledge of successfully running a minor league organization. 

I saw many things in minor league parks, George, especially the bars. While the 66ers are still one of the premier organizations in the land, thanks to its terrific front office leadership (Hi GM Joe!), the Garage has yet to reach its full potential as a minor league social gathering place. Make no mistake, The Garage is very unique, unlike most cookie cutter bars that have been constructed in minor league parks in years. More people should be flocking to it, and I have a few suggestions to make that happen. 

1. More shade. Yes, most innings are played with the sun down, but until about the second inning, Mr. Sunshine blast the garage. More shade could be easily obtained at a minimal cost by just extending the metal roof about ten to twenty feet. This would help get patrons there in the early innings instead of waiting for the shade. At the very least, your bartender would not lose ten pounds to sweat before the first out of the game is recorded.
2. Fifth inning Happy Hour. This will get people to gravitate to the bar until the game’s end — or last call anyway. Just knock a dollar off drinks, and THE SHEEPIES will come.
3. Cheap well drinks. The Garage has a pretty solid offering of top shelf booze, but the working people of the world just want some cheap mixed drinks. Throw some cheap booze into the well, and listen to the cash register ring. 
4. Turn the large cement area above the bar into a gathering place. Move that kids’ pitch to the third base side by the third base gate. One of the problems with The Garage is that people feel that they cannot stand in deep rows there — I do not think this is really true, but it is a perception. If people can purchase drinks and retire to The Loft (or The Bay) to be social. With the new foul ball netting, skull fractures from foul balls are no longer a threat. 
5. Put a margarita stand in The Loft. Duh. Real margaritas, not that shit from a can.
6. The Garage should have a drink special theme every night. Margarita Mondays. Fireball Tuesdays. Wicked Well Drink Mondays, Thirsty Thursday, Reduced Beer Price Friday, Something Something Saturday, and Bloody Mary Sundays.
7. Signage throughout the park advertising The Garage. After two years, many people still think it is not open to the public. Get some intern to walk around in a placard. Let kids throw water balloons at this person because that shit is always fun. 
8. Bigger TVs. It is the year 2019. 50 inch TVs can be had for just over $200. We live in a disposable society, plus there are now outdoor security systems that can keep even the most degenerate Dino criminal at bay. 
9. Do a drinking game between inning game from The Garage. Say something like Quarters, but with Cement Mixers!
10. Give Aaron the bartender a raise. And season ticket holders a 50% discount on shots! Maybe add a jukebox.

Anyway, it is almost time to get ready for tonight’s bobble head night. I need to make myself presentable. 

Your friend in baseball,

Bads85

Dear Ben Hughes [Manager, Marketing and Communications; Fayetteville Woodpeckers]:

I hope I have not offended thee in anyway, but I could not help notice last night that your organization, the Fayetteville Woodpeckers, blocked me on Twitter. My first reaction made me feel like when the University of Southern California cheerleader stood on my porch decades ago and told me she loved Jesus more than me, and we could not go forward. Really, after all the freaky stuff we have been through, you want to go this route? We’ve been to Paris, Switzerland, Munich, Austria, and throughout the continental United States together. Even Canada! I came to your park twice! My peeps sat in the Aevex Veterans’ Club and spent a small fortune. I even posed with Bunker!

My second reaction was man, there are some homeless folk in San Bernardino that are going to receive some ‘Peckers merchandise today. Some the shirts still have the price tags on them – hey, what is your return policy anyway? Instead of the ‘Peckers’ logo being displayed in front of prominent landmarks across the globe, it will be seen in the dumpsters in which the “G” Street Hobos forge for sustenance. It is a long way from the Arc de Triomphe to the trash bags of the Taco Bell by the closed mall in The Dino.

I also thought about reaching out to my associates at Yellow Crayon and having them make some “I got blocked on Twitter by the ‘Peckers, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt (that I had to pay for)” attire. Sure, it will not sell as well as the “Fear the Wood! Respect the Pecker” logos, but nothing really will because that was pure genius. Hell Hath No Fury Like a California Leaguer scorned, and Wee Willie Winkie with a candlestick will be dancing in front of Segra Stadium long after I am gone. I started to think, “Hey, I have been blocked on Twitter by better organizations than the “Peckers, but then I remembered I have only been blocked by radical trolls and Russian bots, except for Mikel Jollet of the Airborne Toxic Event because he became mad at me years ago when I suggested he was a fat, old man who should get his ass off Twitter and record a new record. He still has not put out that new album, although it is supposedly coming out soon.

I then began to wonder how I will get my ‘Pecker in game updates on my mobile devices now that I am blocked. We all know MiLB’s First Pitch is complete ass, and I have an emotional investment in this team, plus the culminating games of the Wood Cup are coming up with the ‘Peckers’ playoff chances in the balance. In case you haven not noticed, the fortune of your team turned around once I visited your stadium. I have that effect because I am kind of a big deal, and often just my mere presence inspires those around me to reach deep inside to do better. You guys certainly were not talking playoffs when I was there. I am not sure I would jeopardize that by callously throwing me away like a grease soaked Egg McMuffin wrapper.

As I went to bed I started to wonder if it were you who pulled the plug, or a higher up that had grown tired of the torrid relationship. Lord knows the Astros have been having a bit of brain drain lately, so who knows what lurks in the hearts of those whose primary office dress are polos and khakis. I then wondered if any of you guys had been called into an office and been given that talk that every minor league executive dreads, the one about being reassigned to Davenport, Iowa or Troy, New York, and then thought maybe I would put the entire Carolina League on time out except for the Wood Ducks and maybe the Salem Beer Mongers.

I sure hope your organization reconsiders this twitter ban on one of the minor league’s greatest ambassadors. I am sure other execs around the league would find this quite amusing. It is not like I am going anywhere. Letters still need to be written, advice given, and parks visited. My good buddy Wade Howell [Vice President; Down East Wood Ducks and Hickory Crawdads] once told me, “It is better that you write to us than about us.”

Still your friend in baseball,

Bads85

Dear Michelle Bir [Fayetteville, NC Photographer Extraordinaire]:

I will not mince words: I need a better photographer than the one I currently employ to capture the the poignancy of the moment when I meet minor league executives for the first time. I also need someone to focus on the intimate beauty of unique minor league moments, say like when a person named Bacon Hag throws her cell phone into the foul ball netting in a fit of rage because she missed last call after the seventh inning.

The person I employ now just cannot capture the intimacy of the moment because of her concentration on superficial beauty. To be fair, the crowd I run with is a devilishly handsome lot, and the minor league execs we meet are best descried as gorgeous (except for the crew of the Rancho Cucamonga Quakes, who are all ugly to the bone). However, I feel that moments in my travels are being lost to time because someone of your immense talents is not that with us. Plus, none of us have a quality camera besides my buddy Harold, but he is more interested in  capturing the moon setting into a bay and smoking pot rather tackling the savage flamencos that unfold almost every night when I venture to minor league stadiums across the land.

Unfortunately, because of an ongoing contract dispute with Joe Hudson [General Manager; Inland Empire 66ers], I cannot afford to pay you what you are worth at this time. I fear that Mr. Hudson will never have the full authority to grant me the rich compensation I deserve so I can pass those earnings along to those who have assisted me along this journey. I certainly do not need the funds as I am spiritually wealthy, but others have to eat and purchase fast automobiles. I hope this is not a problem with you at this time. 

Had you been in my employment while that cute little white trash meth head had thrown the relish dispenser at the concourse wall at San Manuel Stadium a few years ago, perhaps the entire world would have been able to see the desperation that often fills the human spirit when a concession line moves too slow. Instead, my photographer only took pictures of the red mascot shaking his amorphous derriere in a ninety year old grandmother’s face. Sure, that encapsulates the family fun at the ballpark, but misses so much more raw human emotion that can be witnessed at the ballpark. 

Hey, do you know any words other than “capture” to describe getting the perfect shot? Maybe something not so aggressive? And why does photography use such violent terms like “shoot”, “snap”, “roll”, and “photoengrave”? That is some dark jargon. 

Anyway, I would have loved to have someone with your eye to CAPTURE my pals Bongwater and Fast Eddie locked in grisly combat in their games of Gypsy Curse back in that magical season of 2014. Gypsy Curse is a game in which the participants must only communicate with cultural references that others must associate with the source. It is a vicious game in which no quarter is offered, and those two might have very well the best to ever play the game, but now they are both fugitives of The Man’s twisted sense of justice. To quote the very mortal Tom Petty, “Back then we didn’t understand what we were caught up in.” 

We thought we were going to live forever back then, but forever did not last that long. Still the journey is never ending because the river always wends towards the horizon, so we keep moving forward without companions lost because what is behind us in the minors is forgotten ash. Your work could CAPTURE our world before the passing of time sets it afire. 

I thank you in advance for your serious consideration in this matter.

Your friend in baseball,

Bads85